


Will You Fall Again?

by GettingGreyer



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic
Genre: A little fluff a little angst, Bad Flirting, Bastila POV, Bastila falls for it anyway, Canon Compliant, Discussions of Light and Dark, Ebon hawk, F/M, Sexual Tension, Sparring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-03-28 10:03:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13901703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GettingGreyer/pseuds/GettingGreyer
Summary: At times, it was hard to believe they were the same man.Jacen was the opposition to the man Bastila had conjured in her mind. He wasn’t cruel and vicious. He wasn’t manipulative and merciless. He wasn’t cold and ruthless. He wasn’t Revan.





	Will You Fall Again?

At times, it was hard to believe they were the same man.

Jacen was the opposition to the man Bastila had conjured in her mind. He wasn’t cruel and vicious. He wasn’t manipulative and merciless. He wasn’t cold and ruthless. He wasn’t Revan.

Bastila had only stood in Revan’s presence once before, but it was a day that she'd never forget. The experience would haunt her for as long as she lived.

She had led the strike team that had infiltrated Revan’s flagship, they were meant to capture him. She had trained for months in preparation for the inevitable battle, and by her side were a couple of the finest Jedi in the galaxy.

They should have won. Bastila had made sure in her plans that they would have had every advantage. 

But in Revan’s presence none of that mattered.

Bastila shivered as she remembered the encounter. It was like he drained the warmth from the air around him and turned the very Force around him frigid to the touch.

His lightsaber had soared through the air in vicious arcs as he cut down the Jedi with an impossible ease and swiftness.

The air became colder and colder with each new Jedi that laid still on the floor, the ice in the air bit and tore at Bastila’s heart.

She froze when he turned to her, he was masked like a beast, and for a moment, Bastila forgot that it was she who was supposed to be hunting him.

It passed quickly, and the two of them fought in a flurry of clashes, the light from their sabers bounced off the walls, illuminating the two is a cascade of iridescent light.

Bastila had never fought so hard in her life. She could taste the metallic hint of blood in her mouth as she moved her aching body with finase with each attack, but inevitably, it was Revan who stood victorious in the end.

He had reached out with the Force and with an icy grip, he lifted Bastila from the ground, entrapping her to his absent mercy. The cold hand squeezed and Bastila could feel her throat closing as she clutched at it desperately.

In that moment Bastila had thought she was going to die and all she could feel was the cold. 

In what she could only describe as a miracle she was suddenly released amidst an explosion. She crawled over to the man—the monster that had nearly killed her—and she moved the Force around her to heal him—to save him.

Jacen was nothing like that man. While Revan was cold, Jacen was warm. 

The Force churned lazily around him. Jacen seemed to almost glow from the power within him, it wasn't dominating or fearsome like Revan’s, but instead it was like the soft light of a warm hearth fire. 

Jacen moved with a gentleness that wasn't even befitting a hardened smuggler, let alone a Sith Lord.

Jacen was compassionate and kind. He was loyal, and followed the devoted path of the light without even trying.

It seemed almost second nature to him.

Bastila watched as time and time again he walked the good and moral path, and she began to doubt herself and her own devotion to the code. 

It was impossible to believe that he could have been the same man under that creature's mask. It was the dichotomy of the two; Revan’s merciliness and Jacen’s compassion. 

Yet, in battle the two truly became one.

Bastila had seen the transformation time and time again, yet it still managed to send chills down her spine. One minute Jacen would be laughing and cracking jokes, a lazy smile drawn on his face that made him look attractive—not that Bastila paid attention to such things. Then, combat would arise, and Jacen’s legs would shift as he took upon a stance he didn’t remember learning and ignited his lightsaber. In battle, Jacen melted away and Revan was reborn.

He was fiery and passionate. Each thrust of his saber and every flick of his wrist reminded Bastila of his true nature. He wasn’t a former smuggler turned Jedi. He was a warrior who commanded the Force and led armies. He was dangerous. 

His power shook Bastila to her very core, but then—

“You like what you see?”

—he spoke.

“Must you always make jokes?” 

“Well, you were looking at me for a long time.”

“Because we are sparring.” Bastila said, “In a fight a Jedi should always observe their opponent.”

“Sure,  _ observe. _ ” Jacen smiled. “You can observe me all you want.”

“This is serious, Jacen.” At times Bastila appreciated Jacen’s dry humor, even if it annoyed her, but now was not one of those times. “You weren’t able to complete your training on Dantooine, so it is imperative that you focus.”

“I was a smuggler, Bastila, and a soldier. I know how to fight.”

If only he knew. 

“Still, it doesn’t hurt to practice. You’ll need to know how to fight another person wielding a lightsaber for when you face Malak.”

Bastila left out how she needed to learn and discern his own techniques and tells if ever an occasion arises were he to fall back to the Dark Side. She would’ve lost the battle aboard his flagship had it not been for Malak’s intervention. Bastila has been given strict orders by the Council, if Revan does fall again, then no matter what her personal feelings may be, she must be prepared to stop him. 

“Alright,” Jacen—Revan said as his stance changed and his mask returned.

Bastila ignored the chills that ran up her arms as she gripped the weapon in her hands. He wasn’t Revan, she told herself, but it was hard to believe when she recognized the similar stance from the flagship. His memory may be gone and replaced, but his body still knew.

Bastila charged forward, swinging her saber down in a powerful strike. Jacen reacted quickly and blocked the attack with his own iridescent saber. For a moment, Bastila thought she felt the cold once more, but then she saw the smile on Jacen’s lips and the warmth swept over her.

Bastila shoved off the ancient memory that was surging through her mind and made another attack, slicing the air as Jacen dodged.

Jedi didn’t fight like common soldiers or smugglers. Their swings and penetrating thrusts weren’t the strict movements ingrained through constant and repetitive training nor were they simple attacks based on pure emotion and impulse. The Jedi flowed as one with their weapons, matching perfectly with their opponents. When a Jedi fought another Jedi, it was less of a battle and more of a dance. 

And Bastila and Jacen were the perfect dance partners. 

The bond left them deeply attuned to one another. It wasn’t telepathy or mind reading, but through the bond Bastila could sense Jacen’s every move and his every emotion. Normally they could control it and hide what they feel on some level, but during battle every thing rushed to the surface and despite all of her years of training even Bastila loosened her grip on control.

At some point during the sparring their lightsabers had been discarded, and now the weapons lay on the ground, far away from them. Bastila and Jacen were forced into hand to hand combat, and Bastila found herself at a severe disadvantage. 

Jacen was tall, much taller than Bastila, and while that mattered little when she had a saberstaff to make up for her lack of reach, in hand to hand combat it was a significant disadvantage. Bastila had never spent much time practicing hand to hand combat, but she wouldn’t let that hinder her. 

Jacen threw a punch and Bastila quickly deflected it with her arm. She lifted her leg and kicked at his exposed chest. Jacen was faster and quickly dodged the attack.

A frustrated growl grew in Bastila’s throat. She attacked again and again, yet Jacen dodged with absolute ease. Her onslaught of attacks didn't seem to make even the most minute dent in the man's defenses. 

In an act of pure instinct and aggression, Bastila tackled Jacen to the ground, she had expected more resistance, but was met with none and they both fell to the floor. 

Her legs straddling his waist. Her face inches from his own. 

“You win,” The whisper made her face warm.

His brown hair was matted and askew, the long tendrils had become tangled from the fight, and Bastila found herself wondering what it would be like to brush the knots out. She wondered what it would feel like to run her fingers through his hair. Would his hair be soft, like thick cotton? Or was it more like her own, frustratingly coarse and rough to the touch? She wanted to know,  _ needed _ to know.

Bastila drifted to Jacen’s brown eyes, which were still twinkling with mischief. They were soft, and burned like coals of ember, warm and invigorating. When staring into his eyes, Bastila found herself more at peace than the Jedi Code had ever made her feel, that alone was terrifying, but in the moment Bastila found that she didn’t care. 

Her eyes drifted to his lips, which were an alluring pink, gasping for breath, and she found herself biting her own. Her heart was pounding in her ears as an unsettling warmth settled in her lower regions. It was only when she caught herself unconsioulsly leaning forward that Bastila realized what these thoughts were.

They were thoughts unbefitting of a Jedi. She leaned away from him, but she still remained rigid in her position. She felt compelled to stay where she was. Bastila knew what she felt was a manifestation of the constant pull from the Dark Side. She should reject it, like she had always been taught. Yet, she didn’t want to move, if anything she wanted to remove the distance between the two of them and finally learn what it was that the Masters had warned her about. 

They had told all of the younglings at the temple that one day they might suffer from such thoughts, from desire and attraction, but most importantly from attachment.

Attachment was forbidden. 

The way that Bastila yearned for this man’s presence was forbidden. The way she looked at him and he looked at her was forbidden. The way she felt towards him was forbidden.

It was forbidden.

Bastila repeated the words in her mind. Again and again, until finally she resisted and stood up. She had followed the teachings and rejected the Dark Side. She should have felt joy or at least resolve at her small triumph, but all she felt was yearning and loss. 

“Good, um, good battle. Excellent form.” Jacen stared at her, a question on his lips. “I’ll see you later.” Bastila said, and hurried out of the room before Jacen could question her strange behavior.   
  


She avoided Jacen for days after the event, a difficult feat on such a small ship. It was childish and petty, completely unbefitting of a Jedi, but she did it nonetheless. A pang of regret and defeat rang through her. She regretted leaving so suddenly. She regretted not kissing him and she regretted wanting to kiss him. A Jedi should not have such thoughts. 

She was entrusted with this mission by the Jedi Council. They had trusted her to be able to keep Jacen on the path of the Light, yet here she was faltering and falling to the Dark. She was failing.

Bastila had always struggled with staying loyal to the light and resistant to the dark. She had always felt proud of her own resolve and loyalty, but with Jacen she found herself stumbling. She had assumed he would be the one riddled with darkness and that she would be the anchor that kept him at bay. Instead it was the opposite. 

Everyday thoughts of bitterness and resentment grew. Bastila found herself angry with her mother, with the Jedi Council, with the galaxy, in a way she never had before. Her entire life they had bestowed responsibility, regiment, and rules. They controlled her and dictated her, she had no choice. She had never chosen to be a Jedi. She did not want to leave her father, but they had made her.  She didn't want to be a hero, but she had to be one for the galaxy that had taken her father away from her. And now the code kept her away from a warmth she never knew she’d desire. 

At times she felt herself grow rebellious. At times she wanted to ignore the Code and teachings and the Council and  _ everything. _

But then, she saw him.

Unlike her, Jacen didn’t struggle with the light or dark. He was just him, bright and earnest. He did what he thought was right, no contemplation or greed. He was compassionate and self sacrificing. He was willing to go to the brink of death in order to save others.

It was impossible to believe that he was ever a man cloaked in darkness. It was hard to believe that he could ever possibly fall. 

But then Bastila was reminded of history. 

Revan had once been another man, bearing a different name. Before he was ever a warrior he was a Jedi. 

Revan had been a scholar. His teachers remarked that he had an insatiable hunger for knowledge. He was a devoted learner, even more so than his devotion to the code.

When the mandalorians came, that hunger mutated into something far worse; righteousness and fury. He was a charismatic leader and soldiers and jedi flocked to him and his message. He became known to many as a hero of the Republic. 

But that righteous, the weapon that had been used to slay the mandalorians, consumed Revan and it crippled the Republic in one brutal swing.

When Revan fell something new had arose in his place. A monster, an echo, a Sith Lord.

Whoever Revan was before was lost and Darth Revan conquered the galaxy with his cold grip.

How long before Master Vrook’s fears prove to be true?

How long before Bastila is forced to kill the man she … ?

It was a gruesome thought, and one that plagued Bastila’s mind at night, when it wasn’t filled with visions of Darth Revan.

She imagined the man she knew now, drowning in the darkness that was Revan. Jacen’s warmth and light being crushed and extinguished, and in a single brilliant moment the Dark Lord of the Sith would return and his heart would be as cold and icy as that day aboard his flagship. 

Her heart shuddered at the thought.

Inside Jacen, Bastila saw the same righteousness that she had heard so much about. It was more mature and tamed, less impulsive and wild from when Revan was a younger man, but at the core both Revan and Jacen burned with the same passion.

As much as Bastila wished to not see Revan in him, it was impossible not to, because beneath the meddling of the Jedi Order and the damage to his mind, he was the same as the Jedi Crusader that had sought to save the galaxy. 

Jacen sought to heal the galaxy and cure it of the inequalities and injustices that plagued the world. Revan was much the same in his quest to rid the galaxy of the parasite that was the mandalorians. How long would it be before Jacen’s heart betrays him and Revan is reborn?

She was wrenched from her ruminations by the sound of a low cough. She turned around and her eyes met warm brown. 

“Hey,” Jacen smiled, the movement awkward and slow. “It’s been a while since we've spoke.”

Bastila was silent for a long moment. Unsure of what to say she stumbled with her lips, before finally settling on a simple affirmation. “Yes, it has.”

His smile faltered as he ran his hand through his hair. “You’re not … mad at me, are you?”

“No, don't be ridiculous!” Bastila snapped, her voice more angry and irritable than she meant it to. “Sorry,” she relaxed, “No, I'm not cross with you.”

“Then who are you cross with?”

A wry smile grew on Bastila’s lips. “Myself,” she said, the words softer than she meant them to be. 

Jacen walked over to her, he hesitated before placing a comforting hand on her arm, squeezing lightly. “Bastila, you're one of the best people I know—”

“I'm a bad Jedi!”

“No, you're not.”

“Yes, I am!” Bastila sighed. “You don't understand. The code is everything and I can't break it. For anything or … anyone.”

The true words were left unsaid, but the message was sent. Jacen’s hand fell away from Bastila’s arm and she yearned for the returned contact. 

“I don't want you to do anything you don't want to, but …” His voice was small, quiet beneath the longing. “Please, don’t shut me out. I may not understand the Jedi or the Code as well as you do, but we are in this together. We’re bonded, and I know that it’s annoying at times—for the both of us—but I’m glad we’re connected. I can't think of anyone I'd rather have by my side.”

Bastila was overwhelmed by the words and the earnestness behind them. She turned to him and felt herself wrapping her arms around him before she knew what she was doing. 

“Thank you,” she whispered against his chest.

He smiled as he wrapped his own arms around her, pulling her closer. “You’re welcome.”

In that moment the only thing she could feel was warmth. 

At times Revan and Jacen were so distinct in her mind that it was impossible to think of them as one. At other times they overlapped with each other so much that Bastila couldn't distinguish one from the other. And sometimes Bastila could only seen the phantom of Revan in his eyes.

She didn't—couldn’t—know whether or not the Sith Lord continued to live underneath the warmth.

But Bastila knew that he wouldn’t return again. She won’t let him. Jacen—Revan will not go down the same path, he will not fall again.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic expanded a lot from what my original idea was lol. Well, I'm proud of myself for finally finishing it. I've been working on it on and off again for nearly a month now. I'm not sure how I feel about the dialogue, I felt that it was a little too stilted :/ but over all I think I wrote a decent fic. Andway, please comment if you liked the fic. Constructive Critism is appreciated.


End file.
